Club Prive Book 3 (9 page)

“Take me.” The words came out almost involuntarily and I felt his body shudder against mine. I repeated them, “Take me.”

His lips found the soft skin of my throat and began to work it even as I felt him nudge against my entrance. My fingers curled against the tiles as he buried himself inside me with one swift thrust.

I cried out at the sudden fullness, my body going rigid as it made room for the intrusion. He didn’t pause, but rather began to withdraw right away, his thick shaft rubbing against me, the sensation new and welcomed. Skin against skin, our cells calling to each other, searching for the perfect match that existed only in another’s body. His thrusts were hard and deep, each one nearly lifting me off of my feet.

I squeezed my eyes closed, wanting this memory forever imprinted in my brain. The way the water felt against my skin. How the heat wrapped us in a cocoon. The feeling of him sliding back and forth between my legs. His mouth on my neck, sucking on the skin there until I knew I’d have a mark. His arms holding me in place as he thrust up into me. The way the pressure was building inside me until tears streamed down my face, mingling with the rest of the water.

“Please, please,” I begged without knowing what I was begging for. I could barely hear my own voice as I drowned in pleasure.

“Do you want me to come inside you?” Gavin whispered in my ear.

He pressed my body flat against the wall, trapping me between the heat of him and the cool of ceramic. He laid his arms across mine, his hands covering mine. I could feel the flex of his stomach against my back, the powerful thrusts of his hips.

“Do you?” he asked the question again and only then did I realize he wanted an answer. “Do you want me to come inside you?”

“Yes,” I gasped out the word. My body tried to shudder, to shiver, but I couldn’t move.

“Tell me.” Gavin’s voice was fierce, the kind of harshness that made me wet. “Tell me what you want.”

I whimpered as his teeth scraped over the shell of my ear. I knew I should be embarrassed to say the words aloud, but I wasn’t. I just knew what my body was craving and I couldn’t lie about it.

“I want to feel you come inside me.”

The words brought a primal near-growl from Gavin and my eyes rolled back in my head as the vibration traveled through me.

“I want to feel you pulse inside me, filling me.” I was barely able to breath, but I forced the words out. I needed him to know the truth. “I want my thighs wet with your cum.”

“Fuck.” Gavin’s fingers tightened around mine as his hips jerked against my ass.

I felt it then, what I’d been waiting for. The warmth of his seed spilling inside me. His cock emptying, not into some impersonal latex, but into me. It was amazing, everything I’d imagined, but it wasn’t enough. I made a sound of pure frustration, desperate for that last little bit of friction I needed to finish. I started to drop my hand, to slide it between us. It wouldn’t take much, I knew. One or two little touches to bring it to a head.

“No.” Gavin’s fingers closed around my wrist, shoving my hand back where it had been before. “I told you before.”

Then his hand was there, right where I needed it, his fingers rubbing just right so that my climax finally arrived, ripping through me with hurricane force. As wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, I heard Gavin’s voice again.

“Mine.”

He lowered us until we were sitting directly under the spray, my body cradled against his. I put my cheek against his chest, listening to his heart pounding in my ear. I could feel his cum trickling out of me, mingled with my own juices. As I finally caught my breath, I asked the question I’d meant to ask before when the subject had come up.

“You said ‘mine.’” Okay, that wasn’t a question, but I was pretty sure he’d know what I wanted to know.

I was right.

Gavin pushed wet hair back from my face. “When I’m with you, I want every part of you.” His expression was somber, serious. “I don’t mean it in some macho, caveman kind of way, but I want you to be mine. Every inch of your body to belong to me in that moment. To know that I’m the only one you’re thinking of, that you’re not fantasizing about some other man’s hands on you.”

I shook my head. “Never.”

He smiled, but there was still a darkness in his eyes. “I want to possess you, but not control you, or make you into something you’re not.” He shook his head. “I’m not explaining it right.”

I reached up and put my finger against his lips. “It’s okay. I know what you mean.”

And I did. I understood what he was trying to say, even if he couldn’t express it himself. Saying “mine” and claiming me as his had nothing to do with bossing me around or degrading me. It wasn’t about me belonging to him. It was about us belonging together. If I was his, then he was mine, and I liked that.

I put my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Just before our lips met, I whispered, “Mine.” His eyes lit up and his mouth covered mine.

It was tempting to stay in the shower until Gavin was ready for round two and then spend the rest of the day in bed, talking and making love. Neither one of us had used the “l” word or even truly made a declaration of what we were to each other, but I was feeling more on solid ground now than I had before. That feeling of trust grew when Gavin finished dressing first and told me to lock up when I left.

I stood, wrapped in a large brown towel, drying my hair and trying to wrap my head around what had happened. Not only had Gavin brought me back to his place, but he’d also felt comfortable enough to leave me here while he went to work. I think the quickest I’d ever left a boyfriend alone in my apartment had been after five months together. It wasn’t like I’d thought they’d go through my journal or something, but there was something too personal about leaving someone in my space. And I’d never liked it when they’d left me at theirs. Until now.

When my hair was finally dry enough to manage, I wrapped it up, pinning it behind my head. I wished I’d brought clothes with me, but I hadn’t thought I’d be spending the night. My stockings were a total wash, but at least my bra and panties were cleaner than the rest of my clothes. Before I put them on, however, I was going to work on the other essential. Make-up. Fortunately, I had brought some of that with me. Not much, but enough cover-up to mask the pair of hickeys Gavin had left on my neck. The one on my left breast was low enough that nothing I owned would reveal it.

“Next time,” I muttered to myself. “We’ll see how he likes having to wear make-up on his neck.”

I wasn’t really angry though. I liked the reminder of what we’d done, though the throbbing ache between my legs wasn’t going to let me forget any time soon. He hadn’t hurt me, but I was definitely going to be tender for a day or two. I’d had vigorous sex with a more than well-endowed partner too often over the past few weeks. Krissy was right. It was amazing I could walk right.

I laughed at that, then clamped a hand over my mouth at the sound. It was strange, knowing Gavin wouldn’t be coming in to ask what was so funny.

I checked the mirror one last time and tossed my lip balm into my purse. Now to find my clothes. The search didn’t take long, but what happened when I picked up my skirt from under the end table distracted me.

Last night, I hadn’t been paying much attention to what was around the couch. I remembered thinking that he hadn’t had anything personal around. Apparently I’d been preoccupied enough to miss these. Two simple silver frames. One held a picture of a much younger Gavin, dressed in a tux, standing with his arms around a beautiful blond girl. Judging by her dress and the corsage on her wrist, it was their senior prom. They were smiling and very much in love.

I smiled sadly as I put the picture back on the table. I wasn’t jealous. How could I be? I knew what happened after that picture was taken, how many years they had together, the life they’d never have. Being jealous of a memory was petty and foolish.

I picked up the second frame. I didn’t need anyone to tell me who this was either. She may have had her mother’s fine, model-like features and straight pale blond hair, but those dark blue eyes were all Gavin.

I gently set the frame back down. My finger traced along the top of it. “You have a beautiful family.” I whispered the words, unsure if I was speaking to Camille or to Gavin until I added, “I promise, I’ll take care of them.”

Have I mentioned before how much I hate being late? Today was even worse because, not only was I late, I was wearing the same thing I’d been wearing the day before, sans stockings. Fortunately, I kept a fresh change of clothes at the office – most interns, associates, and paralegals did – but that didn’t mean I wasn’t feeling the walk of shame on my way to my desk.

Leslie, Krissy, and Dena all stared at me as I hurried past them, and I refused to make eye contact. I could feel my cheeks burning as I grabbed my back-up pack from my bottom desk drawer and started towards the bathroom.

“Carrie!”

I froze. Shit. It was Mimi. I slowly turned, hoping she wouldn’t be able to read my recent activities on my face.

“You’re late.”

“Yes, I am.” I knew lying would just make things worse. “I’m so sorry–”

She waved a hand. “I don’t want excuses. I want those reports.”

“Right. The reports.” Something very close to panic was threatening to take over.

“Where are they?” Mimi put her hands on her hips, the expression on her face more unfriendly than anything I’d ever had her direct at me.

I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell her that I didn’t do my work because I was too busy fucking her client’s consultant? I stammered, “I–”

“Delivery for Carrie Summers.”

I nearly squeaked in surprise, but managed to keep it to myself. “I’m Carrie Summers.”

I turned towards the voice as I answered. A middle-aged delivery man walked towards me, two thick envelopes in his hands. I quickly signed for them, peeking at the sender information. Gavin. Praying that these were the files he’d shown me yesterday, I turned back to Mimi.

“I had to send for some files about some of the women Howard had been seen with,” I said. “Express delivery of course.”

“And the information I asked you to note chronologically for the meeting?” she asked.

“I’ll have that for you in less than an hour,” I promised. I wasn’t sure how feasible that really was, but I was going to try.

“Since you were working late on the case, I’ll cut you some slack this one time.” Mimi pursed her lips and gave me a once-over. “Please tell me you at least have a change of clothes so you’re not looking all rumpled in the meeting.”

I held up the little black bag in my hand. “I was just heading to the bathroom to change.”

Mimi nodded. “Good. The meeting’s in ninety minutes. Have those notes with you when you come to the big conference room. And I’ll expect the reports on Howard’s women by the end of business today.”

I nodded, eager to get started. When she turned, I hurried away.

New clothes and a little over an hour later, I was on my way to the conference room with the information Mimi had wanted in my hand. It had been crazy to get it together that quickly, but it was surprising sometimes just how much a person can do when they’re motivated enough.

The meeting ended up running all the way to lunch, thanks to the opposing counsel, who appeared to be older than the law profession. He moved more slowly than anyone I’d ever seen before and before we were halfway done, I found myself wondering if he’d taken the fable of the tortoise and the hare to heart as a child. By the time everyone left and I finished tidying up the documents we’d spread across the table, I was starving. I’d eaten a good breakfast, but I’d also been very... active.

A small smile played across my lips as I allowed myself to remember what a great morning I’d had. It had been difficult not to let my mind wander during the meeting, so it was a little reward to myself to give in and enjoy a few moments before joining my friends for lunch. We made small talk as we ate, but it was clear that my relationship with Gavin was the real point of interest. I answered what I could without giving away what I thought Gavin wouldn’t be comfortable sharing. Fortunately, they were more than willing to be distracted by me talking about my sex life.

It wasn’t until we were riding the elevator back up to our floor that Dena asked the question I knew they’d all been wanting to ask. I had to admit, I was a bit surprised that she was the one who said it. She was the quiet one of my friends, the one who most easily faded into the background. Not because she wasn’t beautiful enough to be noticed, but because she didn’t have Leslie’s or Krissy’s flash. She never drew attention to herself and seemed to enjoy it that way.

“I have to ask, is this all about sex or is this something more?” Her pale eyes were serious, her expression one of concern. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I smiled down at her. I wasn’t tall, but Dena was the definition of petite. “Gavin and I haven’t really had ‘the talk,’ but it’s definitely more than sex.” I gave her a sideways hug. “There’s a connection between him and me that I’ve never had with anyone else.”

“Just be careful,” she cautioned.

“I will,” I promised.

The doors opened and the moment was broken. It was time to get back to work. I headed back to my desk, working on refocusing on what I had to do next. I’d glanced at the files Gavin had given me, but hadn’t really examined them. It was time to do that now.

It took me about five minutes to realize a similarity that had escaped me yesterday. All of the pictures in the files were professional. The poses, the quality, the lighting, it all spoke of someone who knew what they were doing. All of these women were taking model shots.

And that was the second thing I noticed. Even though every document I found stated that the women were at least eighteen years of age, a good third of them looked younger. Not just maybe a couple of months shy of being legal, but some looked like they were barely fifteen or sixteen.

Now, I knew there were some women who looked younger than their actual age. Dena was a perfect example. She was actually the oldest out of the four of us, having turned twenty-five nearly six months ago, but she still got carded when she tried to buy alcohol. If she’d dressed younger, I could’ve seen her passing for eighteen, maybe even sixteen.

That was when it hit me why the pictures of those younger women were making me so uncomfortable. If they were, in fact, eighteen or older, they’d intentionally been dressed to look younger. They didn’t look like children, but whoever’d taken the photos hadn’t done anything to give them the appearance of an adult. They looked like girls, not women.

It seemed as if the more I found out about Howard, the less I liked him. I wasn’t sure what that was going to mean for me and Gavin, but I did know that it didn’t bode well for Mimi’s case. I needed to talk to some of these girls and find out how much damage control we needed to do.

I began to scour the documents for contact information, but there were no phone numbers, no addresses, no emergency contacts. No Social Security numbers were listed, and the birth dates alone would never give me what I needed, especially not if half of them were false, as I was beginning to suspect they would be. The names weren’t going to be any help either. I’d done enough Internet research over the years to know how many hits would come up with a name that was anything less than unique. These girls were Jessica and Jennifer, Sarah and Allison. Even the ones with the more original names of Monique, Callie, and Tricia had last names that would give me hundreds of hits, and that was if they were from New York. If any of these girls had come in from another state, I’d never find them.

I’d just about given up when a name caught my eye. Patricia Vinarisky. The first name wasn’t completely unique, but with that last name, it just might be enough.

I pulled up my web browser and typed in the name. Over three hundred results nationwide. Okay, that wasn’t too bad. I just needed to narrow the search. It was possible that she wasn’t from New York, but I was going to start here anyway. A moment later, three matches popped up. Much better. One link led me to a Patty Vinarisky who most definitely not the girl in the picture, since she’d been born closer to the turn of the last century rather than this current one. The second took me to a phone number listed for a Frank Vinarisky. The third hit a dead end. Since I couldn’t do anything about the last one, the second one was the only chance I had.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number. After two rings, an automated message told met that Frank Vinarisky wasn’t available and that I should leave my name, number, and a brief message.

“Mr. Vinarisky.” I kept my voice brisk and business-like. “My name is Carrie Summers and I’m trying to reach a Patricia Vinarisky. If you know Ms. Vinarisky, could you please call me?” I left my number, saying it slow enough that I didn’t need to repeat it.

I sighed as I hung up. Now all I could do was wait.